Gemotions

The email shimmered on the screen, the words a blurry jumble. Sarah blinked, then reread the subject line: “Important Announcement Regarding University Restructuring.” Restructuring? That was a nice word for what this was. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt a sudden, profound need to sit, and lowered herself, unsteadily, onto the worn dorm room chair. The world tilted slightly.

“No,” she whispered, the sound barely audible. Her gaze flickered to the poster of the Eiffel Tower she’d taped to the wall, a symbol of her dreams of studying abroad. Those dreams… crushed now. They were closing, the email droned. All the majors, all the classes, all the futures of everyone in her year and beyond, all of them about to be erased.

She fumbled for her phone, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. She needed to call someone, anyone. But who? She didn't know the words to explain. Her vision swam.